


The proposal

by Mallorn



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sorry no cape but there are gloves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-20 12:24:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9490883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mallorn/pseuds/Mallorn
Summary: Director Krennic gives you an offer of the kind one can't refuse. Or can you? PWP.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ashley_Winchester_77](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashley_Winchester_77/gifts).



> Written for Ashley_Winchester_77, who made this request: “You are Lord Tarkin’s young daughter. Director Krennic has a huge batch of lust for you. And Tarkin wants you to marry Krennic. But reader isn't too pleased. Yet he dominates reader to marry him.”
> 
> This is probably not what you imagined, but still enjoyable, I hope. This world needs more Krennic porn :-)

Standing outside your father’s office, you stroked your fingers along your uniform jacket, smoothing out invisible creases, then brushing off imagined dust. Whatever his reason for summoning you, it would not do to show up before Wilhuff Tarkin, Grand Moff of the Empire, in a less than perfect state. It was still too early to announce your presence so you let your thoughts roam as you stood there, eyes resting on the steel-grey surface of the door.

You had by now spent several months working on his project. Your engineering skills were put to good use, the learning curve of your scientific assignment was steep enough for it to be pleasantly challenging and the mere scale of the construction excited you to no end. Professionally, you were very happy with your position and counted yourself lucky for your mother’s insistent pleas that Tarkin would take you on board once you’d completed your studies.

The knowledge of your parentage had been with you since an early age, but as the famous man was never a part of your family, your relationship with him was still somewhat unclear. Calling him ‘father’ chafed even in your thoughts, and you had been relieved he had not insisted on being addressed thus after that first, awkward meeting when he had invited you to spend an evening in his quarters. The two of you, it turned out, shared a proclivity for strategy games, and dark chocolate, but that was about it, and socializing was now mainly a collective endeavour, to be enjoyed in the mess hall in the company of many others.

Time was up. You glanced at your sleeves again, tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and lifted your hand. Your knuckles rapped at the door in a way you hoped sounded both confident and alert. Why, oh why were you so desperate for his approval even in these tiny things? He had until recently been a stranger to you and wasn’t your direct superior. And you were a competent professional, otherwise you would not have lasted more than a week. Whatever else could be said about him, Tarkin had no patience with incompetence.

“Enter!”

You did as the dry, commanding voice bade you, carefully closing the door behind you.

“Wilma,” Tarkin said as he approached you. The use of your first name surprised you – this was not a professional call, then.

“Father,” you said, a little too hastily.

“Call me Wilhuff if you will, or Tarkin, should you prefer that. I have only myself to blame for the word not slipping as easily over your lips as I would have wished.”

“Thank you. I’ll say Wilhuff then, and maybe, in the future…”

“I am pleased to hear it. I trust that you are contented with your stay here, so far?” Seeing you nod, he continued. “In fact, it is your future I would like to discuss.” He took you by the elbow and guided you towards the meeting-table, where he sat down on the edge with you beside him.

“I’d very much like to continue to work here, Wilhuff, if I may,” you said. “Director Krennic seems pleased with my results and I get on well with my team-mates.”

“I am glad to hear that you have not wasted the chance you were given to serve on this project. In asking for that, your mother did one reasonable thing in her life, at least. Until now, you have given me no reason to regret my decision to offer you the position, foregoing scores of other talented engineers. What I am to propose to you will guarantee you a place here for the foreseeable future; you would be permanently stationed on the Death Star, able to see the project through to its glorious completion, and serve here for as long as you wish.”

“I’d like that very much. What do I need to do?”

“You seem to be at good terms with Krennic.”

You nodded. “He’s the best mentor I could have. He’s brilliant and devoted to his work, maybe a bit overly demanding at times, but nothing I can’t cope with.” A sudden thought struck you. “He hasn’t complained about me, has he?”

“Have you given him reason to?”

“I hope not! Please, if he has, tell me so I can rectify it. Please!”

“It’s nothing like that. To the contrary, he is very fond of you. Very.” His grey eyes bored into yours, pinning your gaze until the full meaning of his words dawned on you.

“I… I don’t know what to say.” It had never occurred to you that your mentor could take a personal interest in you.

“Apparently, he was smitten the moment you joined his team. To put it plainly, he’s been _lusting_ after you ever since.”

You felt your cheeks get pink with shame. “I have never..! I have always been only professional with him!”

“Easy. I trust you. In any case, this is an opportunity for you that it would be wise to consider.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m not a little girl anymore,” you burst out. “What glorious future would there be in being my boss’ whore?!” You felt so belittled by the idea; how dare any of them presume that such a thing would hold any lure for you. “It would be convenient for you, I can see that,” you spat, having quickly worked yourself into a boldness you had not before felt in the Grand Moff’s presence. “It would bind Director Krennic to you, you would have him eating from your hand and dedicate himself even harder to the project. He would be less trouble for you, too, when sexually sated, I’m sure you’ve thought about that as well. Haven’t you?”

“My daughter, you are much too intelligent for your own good. But calm yourself, and I will continue. I do not propose for you to become the man’s harlot, nor would he lay eyes on you ever again if that had been his ambition. He would marry you.”

“…” You were out of words.

“It is only logical,” he continued in an even voice. “You are both bright and passionately dedicated to your work, and unless my ears and eyes are mistaken, there is a certain physical attraction on your part as well. You may have noticed that I would not personally care to spend more time in the director’s company than necessary, but he doubtlessly has qualities beyond his usefulness to this project. He’s an ambitious man and you would have a great future with him. Furthermore, he is known to be quite virile and no stranger to a measure of youthful carousing.” He smirked, and you bit back a retort. However related, you were not going to suggest to the Grand Moff to his face that he go and bed Krennic himself, as he apparently thought him so attractive.

 “He’s twice my age!” To be honest, that didn’t upset you half as much as the idea of your father spying on you, even if you had sometimes let your gaze linger on your superior. The director was a handsome man, regardless of age, and under other circumstances you might indeed have taken a serious liking to him. Under pressure, the idea of doing your estranged father’s will suddenly felt unbearable. “Isn’t it a bit much, even for you, to want to marry your daughter off to a man you don’t even like!”

You covered your mouth with your hand and lowered your gaze, suddenly trembling before the stern man. You realized you had been much too open with your feelings. Waiting for the catastrophe to happen, you shut your eyes tight and pressed your hands into tight fists, the nails sure to leave marks.

Seconds turned to minutes, and not a sound was heard above your own breathing. Then Tarkin cleared his throat and you opened your eyes slowly, not quite daring to relax. His hand gently closed over yours, and you almost managed not to flinch. He watched you intently, suddenly looking tired.

 “I will not force you, Wilma. I do, however, _suggest_ that you consider this offer very carefully and consider the _consequences_ of your choice. I trust you to come to a _reasonable_ decision.”

“I understand.” You fell quiet again and just sat there, thinking, with Tarkin’s fingers tracing patterns on your palm. It was oddly reassuring. You looked into his eyes, grey seas, now still. “I’m not stupid, as you just said yourself,” you told him softly. “I’m grateful for the chance to work here, and I’m relieved Director Krennic has chosen to be honourable about his desires.” You paused. “But I need more than words and professional relations to make up my mind about something as serious as this.” Your eyes had drifted to the floor again as you spoke, and you bit your lip as you lifted your chin defiantly. “Forgive me for being blunt, but I need to know what he’s like in bed.”

Tarkin’s eyebrows shot to the ceiling, but otherwise no emotion crossed his face. He pressed your hand a little tighter.

“This is important to me,” you continued, blushing even harder. “Due to earlier… experiences.” You did not want to let your thoughts linger on your previous, failed attempts at relationships.

“I see. I had not assumed you to be pure, but this turn of events is indeed unforeseen. I am sure something could be… arranged… to obviate your doubts.”

“Thank you, but would like to do this on my own. I agree to give Director Krennic a chance to show me who he is outside of his work. If you want me to seriously consider his proposal, then tell him to invite me to his quarters for a night. If he can convince me that we will be compatible as lovers, then I will accept his proposal. If not, I never want to hear about this again. And if that means my career here is over, so be it. This is my decision.”

“You are bold.”

“I am your daughter.”

“Indeed, that appears to become clearer with each day that passes.” He smirked. “As you wish. I will convene your terms to Krennic. He will not disappoint.”

“I hope so, too.”

***    ***   ***

The next couple of days were interesting. Director Krennic behaved as usual, being charming when things went his way and sneering with contempt at whoever crossed him. He was professional with you, as always, demanding but fair in his role as both your boss and mentor for your scientific work. Nothing but excellence was ever good enough for him, and you felt so proud basking in the attention he showered you with when assignments had been carried out flawlessly. He betrayed nothing of his baser desires.

You, on the other hand, stared at him as often as you could, becoming more and more obsessed with him, wondering what it would be like to be with him, and if he would take you up on your offer. And if you truly, honestly could want him. Krennic was devilishly handsome, you had to admit that. The silver in his hair added an air of maturity and experience to his appearance and went well with his dramatic white attire. His cold gaze sometimes made you strangely warm inside and you realized you felt a strong attraction for the air of confidence he seemed to always wrap himself in. Wherever he went, he seemed to declare without words that this was a man to admire, to follow, commit to, obey… perhaps… even… to love?

You loved watching him walk, his confident strides, how his jaw was set when he was angry. His eyes, burning with an icy chill. His gloves, his hands, oh if he would run them over you. What would that feel like? Had Tarkin even told him about your decision?

The invitation to spend the night with him came one morning, just at the end of your customary briefing session. All professional issues were settled, and you had stood to leave, when he casually remarked, gaze trained on a piece of paper as he jotted something down, that you were to join him in his quarters at 22 hrs.

“Sir?”

“You know what for.” He smirked and pointedly raked his gaze along your front. “Wear something nice.”

Heat pooled in your stomach, but he provoked your ire as well. How dare he tell you what to do at the same time as he brushed you aside as yet another tedious meeting!

“You are dismissed,” he added absentmindedly, again not looking up.

You turned and left the room without a word.

All day you waited with rising anticipation. One part of you wanted to call the whole thing off and run as far from the Death Star as you possibly could. The other yearned for Director Krennic’s attention, for whatever crumbs of recognition he was willing to give you. You longed to see his passion for you, to find out if it was true what your father had told you. The realization that it could all be a game of Tarkin’s, a clever trap to tie both yourself and the director harder to the project and forward its success, hit you like a cold shower. He could not possibly be so cruel, could he? You refused to finish the thouht, and yet you knew – the Grand Moff was renowned for his ruthlessness.

The dress you chose to wear for Krennic was simple, a black, sleeveless one with a wide skirt that ended just below your knees. Comfortable, and while not formal, a huge step up from the uniform you wore during your daily work.

The Director was still working when you arrived. You slipped into his quarters quietly at his command to enter, but after closing the door behind you did not know what to do. The man who had invited you sat in a comfortable chair, but his attention was focused solely on the datapad in his hands.

“Kneel,” he said sharply, without lifting his gaze.

You dropped to the floor immediately, your body following the command before you had the time to analyse it and make a conscious choice. Krennic continued to read, occasionally tapping at the datapad. His gloves lay discarded on a low table in front of him. His wide-legged stance allowed you plenty of opportunity to observe him. He was so handsome, his mouth suddenly appearing quite kissable, even with that discontented pout. Weren’t his trousers a little tight at the crotch?

There was now a dull, throbbing ache between your legs, begging to be filled. It had been so long since someone had really seen to your needs. You were fast becoming wet, and started to worry that Krennic would find you too easy and not respect you. He respected you as a co-worker, you reminded yourself. Besides, respect was not what you were looking for in a bed partner. You yearned to be dominated.

Finally, he sighed contentedly and set the datapad down on the table with a click. He rose and approached you, stopping only inches before an interesting part of his anatomy would connect with your face. You looked down, then up, unsure of what he wanted and suddenly very eager not to screw this up. Whatever the outcome of this night, you wanted to enjoy it to the fullest. This was your chance for an adventure as much as a test of his qualities.

“Kiss me.” Hands tugged at your shoulders and you rose gingerly, managing to accidentally on purpose bump into his crotch. There indeed was a formidable bulge already. You lifted your gaze to his, meeting the storm there, and suddenly your neck was yanked back with a firm grip in your hair.

“I said kiss me,” he hissed.

You nodded to your best ability, and he relaxed his grip enough for you to move. Your lips met his tentatively, a sweet caress against his surprisingly soft skin. He tasted of freshness paired with expensive liquor and smelled of exquisite cologne that couldn’t quite disguise the raw scent of an aroused male. You kissed him again, bolder now, nibbling at his lips while he gripped your hair firmer again. His other hand came around your waist and pressed you against him with rising urgency. You put your arms around his neck, grabbing at his shirt while he plundered your mouth forcefully with his tongue.

Then he began to back you towards the door and you stumbled. His arm caught your thigh, ah he was so strong, and when your back hit the wall you hoisted your leg up around his waist. You were pinned in place by his hips pressing against your core and he caught your wrists, holding them securely over your head in his large hand. The other roamed across your front, touching your breasts and pinching your nipples none too gently as he continued to kiss you roughly.

“Mine,” he growled. You could only whimper, this was exactly what you wanted and at the same time almost too much, already. He began to grind himself into your core, the layers of fabric adding to the delicious friction between your thighs as he rutted against you.

Then suddenly he stopped and let go of you.

“On the bed,” he said as he opened his belt with haste. “On your hands and knees.”

You complied, getting rid of your panties in the process, as you knelt on the edge of the bed. He stood behind you and brusquely nudged your knees further apart with his. His hands came underneath your skirt, meeting no resistance.

“Such a dirty little slut for me,” he drawled. “Prepared already for your superior to finger you.” He ran one strong digit over your folds and you held your breath.

“Have you dreamt of it, before, I wonder? Watched my hands and wondered what they would feel like?” He continued to pet you. “And soon you will know much more than what my fingers feel like. I am going to fuck you tonight.” His finger slipped between your folds, gathering up the wetness there and spreading it onto your clit while pressing it, not firm enough to be unpleasant, just enough to tell you without doubt who was in charge. You whined, melting into his touch. “I am going to fuck you so well,” he continued, now leaning close to your ear. “I am going to give you exactly what you need.”

His fingers left you and there was a soft, swishing sound the moment you felt a sharp sting to your rear. You trembled, but wanted more. Again. And once more. You stuck your bottom out in eager anticipation, earning you five more slaps in rapid succession. Then nothing, only pleasant soreness spreading across your heated flesh.

“Please, sir!”

“You want more of my glove?”

“Yes! No! Oh…” His gloved hand was in front of your mouth now and you opened up for him immediately.

“That’s right. Suck my fingers.”

The smell of leather filled your nostrils, the material soft against your tongue. It felt deliciously filthy. His other hand was on your bottom now, stroking, grabbing, and then it was the head of his cock gliding over your skin, along your slit, then up between your cheeks. Too high. You tensed for a moment, then resumed your ministrations to the fingers in your mouth when he slid lower again, to your waiting wetness. He entered you in one, forceful thrust that almost tipped you onto your face. You steadied yourself and lifted your head as he removed his now glistening fingers from your mouth and pressed them to your clit.

“Ah.., I have thought… about this… since I first… saw you,” he growled, pacing his powerful thrusts with his words. “I wanted... to... bend… you… over my desk already during that first presentation of your graduation work.” His hands closed firmly around your neck and you began to whine in earnest. “I… wanted to… palm you with my gloved hand, run it over your swollen clit and hear the squelching noises as I pushed my fingers repeatedly into your soaked cunt. I wanted to hear you beg for me, crazy with need.” He stilled his pace now, leaned forward and steadied himself on his hands, his arms against your waist, caging you in as he whispered into your ear while continuing to push into you, with long, deep strokes that drew desperate moans from you. “Every day since then, you have tried my patience. No more.” His voice took on a steely edge. “You will sate my needs whenever I choose.”

You would have agreed to anything at that moment, as long as he continued to fuck you. Luckily, no verbal answer was required.

“So wet, so ready for me,” he cooed. “You take my cock so well.”

His words of praise had you clenching around him in seconds and soon you both came in a white-hot explosion of bliss that left you breathless. You relished in the feeling of his weight on top of you and were reluctant to move even when he withdrew.

“Stay,” he said quietly. “There is still some work I need to do.” After a short while he emerged from the refresher in a dressing gown and resumed his earlier position in the chair.

“Can I sit with you, sir? Please?” You craved to be near him even if his attention would be on the datapad.

“Come.” He indicated a spot on the rug and you sank to your knees on the floor, resting your head in his lap. His hand occasionally caressed your hair and you decided that you would be quite happy to spend all your nights like this. It didn’t matter any longer who had instigated it.

“Time for bed,” you suddenly heard him say in a low voice, rousing you from your slumber. “I just seem to have a _problem_ that needs to be taken care of first.” You looked up and saw the corner of his lips curl up, an odd although pleasant combination with the lust that shone from his eyes. Your pillow had, apparently, become rather lumpy, too.

“Again?” you asked, delighted yet astonished with the idea that he wanted you again so soon.

“I am not a man to waste an opportunity given. You offered me a night and I plan to use this gift in full.”

This time, he did it slowly; apparently the demanding Director Krennic was not entirely without mercy. You stretched out on your belly while he crouched between your parted thighs, only needing to lift your hips slightly to give him access. He slipped into you easily, the way between your folds well slickened already. The slowness of his thrusts was driving you mad, each one hitting you deliciously, and yet being just too shallow to let you feel him fully. He chuckled at your soon desperate groans, but payed them no heed. He just continued to drive into your slowly, at that even, torturous pace, until he was ready to proceed.

Then, he lifted you onto your knees with your front still pressed into the mattress. The new position allowed for incredible depth and you came crying his name and pleading for more.

You fell asleep with your head on his shoulder, curled around your director like you never wanted to let go of him.

In the morning, he took you again, lazily, on the side, entering you from behind while you were still half asleep, yet responding to his fingers between your thighs by pushing back into him eagerly.

“Good morning, engineer,” he said afterwards.

“Good morning, director,” you replied cheerily.

“I believe the moment of truth has arrived, and I should ask of your decision,” he said gravely. “My desires are plain and simple – I do want you in my life and in my bed.”

You smiled, quenching the impulse to giggle at his strained expression, most of all befitting of a declaration of war.

“This is what I promise, should you decide to humour me,” he declared in a steady voice without moving a muscle. “During the day, you would be at my side as we work together to achieve great things for the Empire. At night, I want you beneath me, begging for more as I fuck you into oblivion, as often as I choose.” His eyes grew impossibly dark while he spoke and you felt a new surge of lust in your belly. “Do you consent to this?”

You could only nod, too overwhelmed to speak.

***


End file.
